


the gift of enchanted mirrors.

by timelapses



Category: SHINee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 15:02:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20194195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timelapses/pseuds/timelapses
Summary: "mirror, mirror on the wall, bring me the best communist of them all."





	the gift of enchanted mirrors.

”so who exactly are you hiding?” taemin suddenly asked, breaking the sleepy morning silence. it’s going to be a day filled with schedules but truth is, minho finds himself uneasy at this.

the reason behind this is quite a load to unwrap. 

had he different ideologies, he would not be here. had he shared the same greed as kangta-sunbae towards financial power, then he for sure he would not be in this position. but he is. 

when taemin breaks their silence, kibum perks up and he takes a good look around. of course, it’s an inquiry only begging for a search. minho’s been so keen on keeping all the traces away of the presence of anyone else living in the dorm. truth be told, it’s been hard. 

keeping a prominent communist figure in your apartment is… not as easy as imagined. and honestly, minho has felt his superior is quite more _ demanding _ than he ever expected. _ so much for being equal _,. he scoffs as he picks up another spoonful of their breakfast rice to eat. 

jonghyun doesn’t even seem to have noticed anything but he furrowed his brows at the question, taking a look at minho and jinki. minho bit the inside of his cheek and tried to feign an expression as if he has no idea what taemin is talking about. jinki pretended like he doesn’t hear in that moment, and with the way he’s built up his character throughout the years, no one even pays mind to jinki. 

karl marx has been living with them for _ five _ days now and anyone with even a slight awareness to shinee’s group comeback will know that the members gather in the dorm during their busy periods. outside of comebacks, it’s really just jinki and minho who sleep there. they got their own rooms, they got their own bathrooms. their manager occasionally walks in and out. it’s the perfect arrangement. but karl marx popped up (almost literally) in the middle of group schedules. 

”is it a girl?” jonghyun followed up with a second question, his voice almost squeaking with excitement. minho compared him to a little disney mouse eager to get cheese. it’s a bad analogy but he isn’t sure how else to describe it. 

but, oh how minho _ wishes _ it was a girl. but nope, it is a german economist and philosopher. in response, minho just snorted and shook his head. he just knew how much easier things would have been if it was a girl. then she would have just sneaked out before anyone even came. if things were pleasant the night before, there might even be a phone number saved but that was not today (or yesterday, for that matter). 

”no one’s hiding in the dorm. girls don’t get to stay the night anyways,” he said as confidently as he could because there’s so much pressure on his shoulders as is. he still worried his superior was going to burst out from his room, step out in his nudes like he did the day prior and minho really, really can’t have that happen. it was difficult to comprehend jinki scolding him with karl marx standing behind, unable to understand korean. at his words, he felt like he got a weird look from everyone except kibum’s dogs. he clears his throat and picks up his mug of coffee again.

so much for a pleasant breakfast together before a long day together. 

for how it started, _ it had all happened on set. _

minho overheard one of their set builders talk about how they excluded a mirror due to the glass being broken. apparently, it wasn’t reflecting properly, so it was no use. they will probably throw it out later, he heard and minho’s curiosity peaked. once he was dressed minho took his chance to explore the parts of the set that was excluded while key shot his solo scenes. he has specifically told the set builder he wants to see the mirror. you know, to take photos for the instagram account he doesn’t have. 

”here’s the mirror, minho-ssi,” she gestured to the mirror. and if it wasn’t _ beautiful… _ minho gasped as he saw it. he found himself instantly wanting to touch it and if wood could be soft, that’s how it felt. it didn’t feel delicate at all, it was a sturdy mirror. it was just a part of a set but this piece felt like it was old. he wondered where they even got a mirror like this from. it can’t just be a piece for a set; it’s far too expensive. he took a glance around to see the rest of the items around and suddenly he was alone. she had left him to look at it on his own. 

taking a look at the mirror, minho wasn’t sure what was exactly wrong with it. it looked fine to him. his image wasn’t distorted in any way; instead, it felt like it was shining, like his reflection was dusted with glitter. it looked like an enchanted mirror. at this, he decided that he wanted to play, even if just by himself. he adjusted the jacket he was wearing and smiled proudly before he then spoke.

”mirror, mirror on the wall, bring me the best communist of them all,” he said, his playfulness as clear as day. with his friends who share the same ideology as him, they always imagined how good it would be if one of the great philosophers came back to bring some sense into people. changmin especially, has mentioned a lot about how capitalism and robots are going to take over the world. and truthfully, just as minho is about to leave the mirror, no photos taken, he was surprised with the presence of another person. 

_ karl marx. _not his first choice, of course. 

but oh my god, if it isn’t. minho almost fell to his ass at the surprise. he was clutching his chest. one thing that he had noticed immediately as his beard, it was… magnificent. it looked untouchable. all minho wanted to was to feel it against his skin. who cares how well he is trying to care for his skin, who absolutely cares what this mismanaged beard can do to it. 

”who are you?” his philosopher sputters - in german. minho wondered how he could possibly understand everything. he hadn’t put time into learning the superior’s language yet, he was planning to do it after he had mastered japanese. but how could he possibly understand him? it must be on the behalf of the mirror… 

and his voice just as minho expected. dark, demanding, a tone laced with truth only. if minho was to embody any sort of emoji, it would surely be the heart eyes one. he couldn’t figure out the correct way he should potentially react? to him, the idea of acting surprised or caught off guard was not even a possibility. karl marx, the love of his life, was right in front of him. he found himself thinking about all those scenarios online, asking what would _ you _ do if your favorite celebrity was right in front of you? he swallows. 

”i’m minho, sir! i’m a member of shinee! we’re a popular music group here in south korea.” he said, standing tall and proud. he felt like he was back in 2009, where he had to introduce himself as well as possible. he found himself a bit tense just after his introduction. maybe he would seem like a slave to a capitalistic society – someone who is stuck under the sphere of entertainment, existing purely to make others amused. well, minho found himself wondering if marx would be upset with him.

”you’re a member of what?”

this surely wasn’t going to go the way minho would have expected it to but then again, that would have required for him to have imagined this happening in his head. there are many scenarios involving him, karl marx, vladimir lenin and a young joseph stalin. normally he is in the middle of these scenarios but never once in his dreams do they question who he is. he finds that his dreams normally skip over that phase and get down to business almost immediately. 

”you’re the reason i wanted a red theme for our current music video.” 

”_ what? _” 

maybe minho, at the time was scared. but in retrospect it went kind of well. at one point, minho just wanted nothing but for mr. marx to jump back into the mirror or go back to where ever he came from but that did not happen. instead, minho had to convince jinki hyung to help him. 

any sentence that starts with ”_ hyung, you know the enchanted mirror…?” _ can’t be a good start for anything. he can vividly remember jinki’s face when he saw karl marx. it was shook; it was something minho thought of grievance and then it was simply blank. it was hyung’s _ i’m thinking of a plan _ face. 

how it’s been tricky since. but right now, they have a prominent communist figure in their dorm and there are only a few things that can stop a curious taemin. as taemin got up to check for himself, minho found himself playfully yelling out: _ i hope you break a door handle! it’ll be your lesson to listen to your hyungs. _ minho has no idea how marx did it, but he wasn’t found through taemin’s searches. 

(that does not mean that taemin was any less suspicious.)

as they were all seated by the table again, minho noticed the look jinki is giving him and it can only tell him. something that they had spoken about just the night before. 

_ minho, take him back to the mirror or find someone else in your party who can take over, otherwise i’m getting rid of him myself. _

minho shuddered, blamed the cold with a dismissive wave of his hand and then picked up his orange juice. all while kibum gave him a confused look. minho was unaware of this look. instead, he placed his orange juice down and watched taemin lay his head on his lap instead. he supposed they were not moving anywhere anytime soon. they have received their schedule for the day but it appeared they had been postponed for later that was a couple of days ago.

thankfully, jinki has not felt even more inclined to be rid of the communist in their bedroom. he had the desire to do so, but it hasn’t increased since, much to minho’s fortune. 

but ever since karl marx had appeared nude in their living room, minho found himself… aroused, so to speak. there was something about him. he never looked strong in his portrait but minho was sure he could break a watermelon with those thighs. he’s found it hard to concentrate around him. it’s becoming increasingly difficult because as their group schedules diminished into individual ones, minho has more free-time at the dorm. it’s free time he has dedicated to spending time keeping an eye out to the antics potentially committed by his superior. 

but something he has noticed is that the second that jinki is outside of the dorm and they are alone, karl marx feels.. a lot more bold. he isn’t sure what to take of it. is it a sign? but if minho remembers correctly, he had a wife and he really ought to not be flirting with him. but upon watching documentaries reflecting the times that marx had not been around for, minho was concerned that the focus shifted from the screen towards his thigh. the strong, big hand that rested between them found its place on minho’s thigh instead. was he excited about this? 

well, a part of him was at least. 

that’s when minho lifts his glance in realisation, from the big hand on his thigh to the bright TV in front of them. in the times minho had left karl marx alone with an ipad –– something he knows is capitalistic –– he must have found out what _ netflix and chill _ meant. and in no way could minho predict this. but for sure, would it explain the searches he found on his ipad. he had at first thought it was taemin lurking around. 

”is this how it’s done?” karl marx speaks up finally, drowning out the voice of benedict cumberbatch explaining the destiny of the planet. he supposes it wasn’t particularly arousing. he doesn’t blame him for focusing on something else. but he hadn’t expected it to be him.

”how is what done?” minho asks, feigning obliviousness. his teeth gnaw into his lower lip and his fingers play with the hem of his long sleeve. 

”_ netflix and chill,” _karl continues and minho knows that if he had anything in his mouth he would be choking on it right now. had he a pea in his mouth, he would require a heimlich manuever. karl doesn’t sound as unsure has he wished he would have. had this been any other guest, minho would be all over the opportunity but instead he finds himself merely sitting, baffled by the fact that this is happening. 

_ he is about to sleep with karl marx. _ and oh god, if there was nothing more he wanted. all the prancing around their dorm in his nudes had left minho wondering just what would happen the next time around. he found himself only more and more attracted to him. of course, karl marx was nothing like other handsome leaders but right here and right now, karl’s skin against his is all he can think of. it’s _ embarrassing _ to say the least. 

minho swallows hard and he nods. the next step is either to go about it on the couch, but with the potential of jinki coming back home he rather they aim for the bedroom. with a sigh, minho gets up with the single motion that urges karl marx to follow him. 

with childlike excitement, minho hears karl marx chant. ”bed, bed, bed,” and he continues all the way until they’re in minho’s room. minho’s… finding himself sharing the same sorta excitement but he’s reserved, for sure. to say he has not been with other men before would be a lie. clearly, he has his preference towards women but karl marx has everything in a man that arouses him. and from the looks of it, minho’s in for a fun time. _ hopefully _. 

the second the door is closed behind them, karl’s lips are immediately on his and his facial hair is already burning against minho’s bare face. for one, karl is not the best kisser. but there’s passion for sure. 

clothes come off easily, really. karl barely had any on and minho’s were so loose that shucking them off came easily. with the guidance of karl, minho sunk into the bed and threw off his basketball shorts. it felt like in the glimpse of a second, they both were naked.the air between them feels a bit tense, a bit awkward but inside him, there is excitement. 

”i can’t wait to turn you from a capitalistic boy to a proper comrade,” minho listens to karl and those are words that make his whole body heat. with the way karl is pressing in between his thighs, hands stroking the vast space of his muscles, minho finds himself weak. they haven’t even started.

karl presses down for a kiss and once again minho feels more of his beard than he does of his lips. but a moan slips past his own lips, his mouth open and a clear invitation that karl accepts. the same hand that was on his thigh holds his chin and their kiss deepens. karl’s tongue is frank around his; it’s eager and minho’s compliant. 

minho’s arms wrap tightly around his neck, his eyes closed. his fingers trace every bump and rise along karl’s back. their moment doesn’t last long - with harsh movements, karl grabs his hips and pushes him around to lie on his back. a moan escapes minho at the abruptness of the kiss.

”i’ve seen your performances,” he begins and minho’s breathing hitches. ”on the you-pad,” in a combination of karl’s tough hands groping his ass, a thumb pressing not-so-delicately against his unprepared rim and his deep voice, minho’s hyper-aware of the next movement. ”you look _ perfect _ in red,” he continues. 

clearing his throat to gather what’s left of his composure, minho reaches to grab the stray bottle of lube he has lying in his bedside drawer. he doesn’t even have to say anything as it is snatched out of his hand, much to his relief. 

”you think?” minho asks, already out of breath and he presses his forearms under his chest to lift himself up and he feels like there is barely any chance for him to gain a moment to gather himself together. easily, almost embarrassingly, karl opens the bottle and squirts some straight between his cheeks. 

”i know,” he hears karl’s voice is breathy. with every touch, minho’s skin shudders and with every word minho just wants to hang his head because it’s hot, it’s attractive and it’s everything minho has ever wanted in a male partner. with his following words, karl’s fingers are pressing into him. soaked with lube, they’re stroking his rim teasingly only to press inside. 

”you’re so attractive, no wonder you’ve been re-awakening my _ samenstau, _” he whispers harshly as another fingers join his digit already pressed in. minho’s face feels so red, but his own hands grip onto the sheets under him and he bucks his hips back onto him. 

minho never got a chance to even get a look of karl’s cock but he can feel it, he head pressing against the back of his thigh. with precum, it drags an unintentional line on his skin and minho swallows thickly because already, he’s hot and sticky. 

”ah, ka—” minho moans, his forehead pressing firmly into the mattress under him. he didn’t even get a chance to finish his name and immediately he’s told off. 

”do not use my name,_ junger mann,” _ karl hisses and minho’s only response is a moan that slips from his mouth. his lips are wet with how his tongue continuously wets him. ”you can call me, _ herr marx _,” he commands as he slips his fingers out of minho’s now slick ass to grab the back of his thighs. but minho nods. what else can he do? 

”yes, yes, _ herr marx _,” minho then whimpers and he feels empty. he knows it was just a couple of fingers but his desire for more was becoming overwhelming. with every touch of herr marx, minho finds his voice escaping him as he fixes to kneel instead. 

”good,_ junger mann, _ ” herr marx praises him and minho finds himself only humming in approval. of course, of course _ herr marx _ would have a desire like this. but minho couldn’t predict the way his nails dug into his hips and he felt the thick head of herr marx’s cock press into his ass. 

at that moment, minho’s breath catches in his throat and his own nails are tightly wound into his fists, the only thing preventing him from drawing blood is the sheet tangled up in his hands. the slide of herr marx’s cock into him slow, and minho’s wondering if he’s teasing him. 

his thighs feel tight with the push, putting in every effort he can to press back and feel _ more _ of the impressive girth. his mouth opens with a drawn out moan. but he’s not given a break, really. not that he was going to ask for it.

instead, herr marx’s only adjusts his hold on his hips and with that, begins to fuck into him in the harshest pace minho has ever felt. but he enjoys it, it’s quite frankly been a while since someone didn’t hold back. 

as herr marx’s cock is deep in him, it’s reaching where he didn’t expect it could and it feels like a fantasy almost. minho’s feeling so full he can’t get enough of his thrusts. in desperation, he presses back on his hips. 

”don’t you like this, _ junger mann _?” herr marx says harshly, and loudly. minho winces at the volume of his voice but from his own lips comes only a groan. following his voice, minho presses his forehead down into the mattress and closes his eyes. within a few seconds, the pleasure becomes overwhelming and he can feel it from herr marx as well. 

it must be because he hasn’t had sex in a while, minho tells himself. why can’t he even last long?

but minho doesn’t even touch his own cock as he feels the pace turn from reminiscent of stable to the erratic pace it is now. but his voice finds it way out between his lips anyways. with the thrusts there are, minho’s whimpering, panting and he’s whining. 

”i said, don’t you like this?” herr marx asks again, now more out of breath than before and minho’s voice comes out in an equally breathy _ yes _. his brain clouded with the pleasure that’s growing and he tilts his head to look at herr marx over his shoulder. his whole face red, matching the colour of marx’s cheeks. 

_ ”good, junger mann,” _herr marx grins between his panting and minho’s easing his palms down onto the sheets upon the realisation that his top seems to be faltering in his pace.

minho notices that herr marx doesn’t last as long as he wants to. with only a few more thrusts and he’s gone. he’s deep in minho and minho’s ass feels like it’s burning from the heat it’s been taking. his own cock is heavy and red, begging for attention. but he’s still for herr marx to ride out his orgasm and from him, small whines and whimpers escape.

with a grunt, herr marx pulls out of him and falls onto the mattress with ease. minho feels like he’s gaping for pleasure, but much to his disappointment, karl marx does not seem to be keen on checking whether his partner too, got to climax. with a sigh, minho sits back on his heels and he grips onto his own cock. 

with swift strokes, he soon spills into his own hand and his body feels like it’s shaking with dissatisfaction. he makes no note of it, he tells himself that disappointing sex always happens. grabbing a stray shirt hanging on the headboard, he wipes his hand clean.

”i really enjoyed that. we should do that again soon,” karl then says with a yawn, slapping a hand down on his thigh and minho yelps in response. clearing his throat then, minho drops the shirt and he gets off the bed to find his clothes.

_ right. _

_ ” _i got a chance to read about our fellow herr stalin and herr lenin. i really liked how the colour red came from their campaign,” he says followed by another yawn and minho bites down on his lower lip. he’s not sure what to say.

”that’s why i called you comrade, minho.” karl continues and minho wonders what to even say but he’s lucky, he thinks. only a minute later and the old man is asleep. he only sighs in relief. who would have thought sex would’ve gone that way? 

* * *

much to his fortune, karl marx only lingers in their dorm for two more days before one morning the the sound of shimmer and magic comes from the bedroom. minho looks up from his laptop to see the figure of karl marx slowly disappear into nothings. he can’t remember if there ever was a deadline but minho tilts his head in confusion and tries to recall his situation with the mirror.

if anything the mirror hadn’t said anything. but in his head there’s suddenly a voice. a voice that gently intrudes into his mind and whispers delicately. _ he has to go back now _, it says and minho tries to process it carefully. as the intrusion eases on his head, minho heaves a sigh. 

as disappointing as the sex had been, there had been multiple occasions in which marx was incredibly helpful. changmin had met him briefly and it had been a very informational conversation between them.

”minho, what was that noise?” jinki asks from the living room and not without pursing his lips, minho closes his laptop to make his way out. 

”uh…” he begins, scratching the top of his head. glancing into the bedroom one more time as if to confirm his next words. ”karl marx has gone back now,” he says and his lips twist into a half-hearted smile 

”something about having to go back.” 

”ah, well…” jinki seems conflicted. like he knows minho had enjoyed his company, to get to be around someone like-minded. 

”are you sad?” jinki then asks after a pause. 

with a shrug, minho responds. after a pause of his own, minho finds himself nodding. his fingers twiddled with each other and he notices the way jinki pats the spot next to him on the couch. he’s over in an instant. 

minho can tell there isn’t a lot for jinki to say. he would too, be speechless if your not-so-local communist from the history book came and went all within a week. but minho appreciates that despite all, jinki reserved a majority of his judgements. 

“i don’t think it was going to last, you know…” jinki then says in the softest whisper. like he’s scared to hurt minho’s feelings.   
  
“i know, hyung.” he says in a similar whisper. “ _ i promise, _ i knew that.”


End file.
